In The Garden I Will Die. In

Every Step We Take On Earth Brings Us To A New World.

Only Mystery Allows Us To Live, Only Mystery.

Never Let Me Lose The Marvel Of Your Statue-like Eyes, Or The Accent The Solitary Rose Of Your Breath Places On My Cheek At Night. I Am Afraid Of Being, On This Shore, A Branchless Trunk, And What I Most Regret Is Having No Flower, Pulp, Or Clay For The Worm Of My Despair. If You Are My Hidden Treasure, If You Are My Cross, My Dampened Pain, If I Am A Dog, And You Alone My Master, Never Let Me Lose What I Have Gained, And Adorn The Branches Of Your River With Leaves Of My Estranged Autumn.

Green How I Want You Green. Green Wind. Green Branches.

I Want To Be A Poet, From Head To Toe, Living And Dying By Poetry.